Abra Cadaver
by Xebot
Summary: The only politician to deliver a speech postumously.


"Abra Cadaver"  
By Michael J. Paluka (Xebot)

Publ. in Humerus, Vol. V, No. 2, 1993  
[Author's note: this was written in 1993, so bear with a few dated refs.]

  
A politician who is prepared to deliver a speech in a heartbeat is no rarity; however, one who can orate, in the absence of cardiac rhythm, is worthy of some note. This is the story of John Argos, the only politician to deliver a speech posthumously.

John Argos was an old-school liberal who believed that government and taxation were the road to salvation. He seemed to think that death was merely God's taxation of life.

The dear Mr. Argos had spent most of his life in local politics, but was now running for the State Legislature.

My name is Bill Carpetti, his public-relations manager. My boss is Angie Smollett, his campaign manager. Angie is a hard-nosed realist, and sometimes brilliantly original. In spite of my political experience, I remain somewhat idealistic. I am also an amateur magician.

Angie and I had worked for several politicians, though never on the winning side. John Argos was the only politician who would now hire us. Given his temper, there were few he could hire.

It was election night and I was sitting in my office when Angie phoned and told me to hurry to Argos' office. Her voice was uncharacteristically emotional. I wondered if the old man had made a grab for her. Angie didn't like being touched.

When I entered his office, Angie said, "Lock the door!"

I saw Angie standing behind Argos, who was slumped over his desk, face down. There was a near-empty bottle of bourbon on the edge. I said, "Don't tell me he's drunk!"

She said angrily, "Argos is dead! Damn, where does that leave us? We could've won this one!"

"I didn't like him anymore than you did, but, show some respect."

"Respect?! He was a drunk and a crook!"

"He did hire us."

"That's only because nobody else would work for him!" Angie picked up Argos' head and said, "He probably would have won. It would've been the only State-wide office that he's ever won." She released his head and it dropped to the desk. Thud! "We won't even get credit for the victory!"

I tried to calm her down. "Sure we will, Angie. If he wins, we win! I never felt too good about him being in office, anyway."

"Bill, you've got to understand, we've never had a winner; now, our candidate dies! Politicians are very superstitious. Before, they just called us bad luck, what the hell are they going to call us NOW! The Kiss of Death, literally! Call the mighty team of Angie and Bill, we'll get your candidate elected, just don't expect him to do too much in his first term. If only Argos had lasted until after the election results, we'd be in the clear. Technically, he would be in office. Our job, and responsibility, would be over."

In an effort to ease the tension, I picked up Argos' head and, working his jaw with my other hand, plied my skills of ventriloquism, contriving to make him say, "Oh, you dirty rat! You Exxon Valdez of politics! You killed me!"

Angie smiled. "That was OK. I didn't know that you were a ventriloquist."

"I'm not! I'm a magician. Even magicians have ethical standards."

"I've got an idea, Bill. Argos is going to make a speech tonight."

I released Argos' head. Thud! "What are you talking about?!"

Angie regained her computer-esque composure. "Are you still dating that paramedic?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to call her. Tell her it's an emergency; we need a wheelchair and a neck-and-chin brace. But don't say anything else."

"What?"

Angie explained, "We're going to wire his chin-brace so that you can operate him just like a ventriloquist's dummy! We'll roll him out in the wheelchair. We'll say that he fell down in the shower. You sit on his left, with your right hand working the wires to move his jaw as you throw your voice!"

"This is insane!" I said. "What if he gets elected? You can't have a dead man in office!"

"Are you kidding? He'll probably get RE-ELECTED! Anyway, tomorrow morning we'll announce that he died during the night! The newspapers will love it! Politician Achieves Life-Long Goal Before Fatal Siezure!"

"I won't do it."

"Bill, do you want to go back to selling used cars?"

"I'll do it."

Ten minutes before NBC was scheduled to release the final election projections, we wheeled the would-be candidate into the press room. Candidates always give a short speech prior to the final projections. It's the political equivalent of urinating even when you don't have to.

There were more reporters than I had expected. Hopefully, they would assume Argos' stoic composure to be more the result of statesmanship than morbidity.

As Argos' public relations manager, I had not the slightest idea of his political platform; my job is selling, not telling. I was forced to ad-lib.

I made Argos say, "I must apologize for m]<+)pearance. I slipped in the shower while washing off the mud that my opponent threw at me during the campaign! Ha, ha. He may try to wash HIS hands like Pontius Pilate, but they remain stained, like those of Lady MacBeth!!!"

Argos' supporters applauded.

The reporters assumed that Ms. MacBeth must be a Republican. The next day, they would write editorial columns denouncing her.

I continued the voice of Argos, "This is the happiest night of my life. I feel as though I died and went to Heaven . . . hopefully!"

Angie gave me a sharp, disapproving glance.

I continued the charade. "In a few minutes, we will know the victor. I want you all to know how much I appreciate your support. Money cannot buy such loyalty. In the future, just send flowers!"

Angie reached behind Argos and slugged my arm, causing me to lose grasp of the wiring, and Argos fell straight forward, his head bouncing off of the table. Thud, thud, thudda! I quickly recaptured the wires and brought him back to an upright posture. I caused him to say, "Knock on wood!"

In the back of the room there was a commotion. The crowd of reporters parted like a sea of phlegm, allowing two figures to emerge. One was tall and gaunt. His name was Smedley. The other was seated in a wheelchair and wearing a neck-and-chin brace. He was our main opponent, Johnson.

Johnson yelled, "It's a fraud! I won't let you win on sympathy! I broke BOTH my ankles and fractured BOTH of my chins!" The two charged towards us.

Smedley helped Johnson to his feet. I picked up Argos. Then all four of us fell to the floor.

When security separated us, Argos and Johnson remained on the floor. One of the guards said, "They're both dead!"

Angie examined both bodies and shouted, "Your candidate is COLDER than my candidate, WE WIN!"

A woman ran up to the podium holding a piece of paper. She announced, "The final projections are in! Ellen Kennedy is the winner!"

A few hours later, Angie and I were in Argos' office, finishing the last of his bourbon. I said, "Well, I guess it's back to selling cars for me. What about you, Angie?"

"I'm going to continue in politics."

"How can you? After what happened here tonight?!"

"You're forgetting the number-one rule of politics," she said.

"What? Dead politicians tell no lies?"

"No, that people have short memories for deeds, but long memories for names. Richard Nixon is now an Elder Statesman! Why do politicians hire us? To get name recognition! The best publicity is controversy! You can't BUY this kind of exposure! I'm talking nation-wide PRIME-TIME!"

"Angie, I think that you may become the first woman President of the U.S."

"How would you like to manage my campaign?"

I paused for a moment and then answered, "Don't forget the number-two rule of politics: it takes a lotta bull to keep the cows happy."

Angie whispered, ". . . and the number-three rule is: everybody needs a little magic in their life. Can I buy you dinner?"

"Absolutely." 


End file.
